


Get a Man Who Works With His Hands

by Doceo_Percepto



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Anal Sex, Hand Job, I can't keep things nice, M/M, Sammy is a bad influence, Thomas is helpful, Vomit, gdi I tried to keep things nice, slightly more dubious consent, some fluff?, some hurt/comfort?, the Ink Demon is aroused and confused, very mild dubious consent?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2019-09-06 04:37:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16825282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doceo_Percepto/pseuds/Doceo_Percepto
Summary: Tom's a mechanic, but his job now includes looking after a wandering Ink Demon. The Ink Demon doesn't make life easy, but Tom steps up nicely to the challenge.





	1. Chapter 1

The first thing the machine spat out bore some resemblance to the cartoon character called Bendy, but it was a poor resemblance at best. Mostly Thomas wasn’t sure what the thing was, only that the people in the administrative offices often called him the Ink Demon. Really, that was just as fitting a name as Bendy, given that the demon seemed to be made of nothing but ink and he dripped it and slimed it everywhere he went. Somehow he ended up being Tom’s responsibility, despite the fact Tom already had a job that occupied all his time (read: fixing the Ink Machine, because Joey apparently looked at the Ink Demon and thought “hey, let’s try again!”).

But looking after Bendy was no simple task. Because he wandered. A lot.

Thomas could barely focus on engineering when he was too busy chasing the demon across the studio, digging him out from offices he shouldn't be in, towing him away from people that weren’t supposed to know about him, and tugging things out of his hands that didn’t belong to him (read: everything he ever grabbed). As soon as Thomas would notice the demon gone, he knew he’d be in for a trip trying to hunt the creature down before he traumatized anybody else or broke anything else.

The logical solution, of course, would be to lock the demon in his office (or at least _somewhere_ ). Simple enough, right? If he was locked in, he couldn't wander. Yeah, well, Thomas had been optimistic about that too, until realizing the Ink Demon could walk straight through walls. The entire studio was effectively his playground, and by stepping through the walls he could turn up anywhere in only a few seconds.

On paper that sounded terrifying – having a huge demonic creature that could instantly travel anywhere in the studio. He certainly scared the lights out of many a hapless worker. But Thomas usually pursued Bendy with irritation or amusement rather than fear. He’d spent a lot of time observing the Ink Demon, enough to realize the creature meant no harm. Mostly, he wanted cartoons and company (and whatever Bendy plushies he could get his hands on), and he suffered from an insatiable curiosity for the world around him.

Frankly, Thomas didn’t see an issue with Bendy wandering so much. If other people could get used to his presence, he really wasn’t that disruptive – and he listened very well to orders (such as _don’t touch that!_ when Bendy nearly ruined a stack of animations). Still, Joey hated seeing him, and if enough workers complained…

Well, Thomas didn’t want to find out what would happen. So he played this game of tracking down Bendy all too often.

One morning Thomas unlocked his office, a hot cup of coffee in his hand, to find the demon _already_ gone, and a huge groan escaped. Normally Bendy was there to greet Thomas every morning (in his own weird way, with an enthusiastic chirrup and a wiggling of his horns), but clearly he had decided to get the mischievous hijinks started early today. On a Wednesday, too.

Thomas chugged down half his coffee, burning his tongue a bit along the way, then contemplated the pack of cigarettes on his desk before snatching them and stashing them in his pocket. If this was the start to his day, who knew how fast he’d end up needing them.

Now to track down the demon.

He had his favorite haunts, the places Tom always checked first. Of all the areas, he ended up in the toy shop most often, typically trying to smuggle away anything that had his face on it. Shawn at this point was so used to seeing him, he found the behavior endearing more than anything, and let Bendy get away with far too much, in Tom’s opinion. For starters, he didn’t stop the demon from stealing the merchandise despite the fact Bendy responded very well to _stop’s_ and _no’s_. Thomas couldn't tell how many times he’d returned to his office to discover piles of Bendy paraphernalia that the Ink Demon had dragged in well within Shawn’s knowledge.

However, this time, the toy shop was surprisingly ink-free, and a yawning Shawn Flynn informed him he hadn’t seen the demon.

There was a small room not far from the toyshop, with a projector and a few film reels. Bendy often gravitated to this room, and had broken two projectors in the past by completely clogging them with ink. But this room, too, was empty and spotless of ink (Wally _did_ work hard cleaning up all the puddles Bendy left everywhere).

Sighing, Thomas jammed a cigarette between his teeth and lit it. So the Ink Demon wanted to be difficult today. Apart from the toyshop and projector rooms, he was fond of lurking in the animator’s rooms, where he could watch people work – aka, loom freakishly in the middle of the room while unsettling everyone present. At this point, he really was the studio’s worst kept secret.

Whatever. At least Thomas had come in early for his shift today (to get a head start on machine repairs, he tacked on with irritation, not to look after Bendy), so he could ideally find and drag out the demon before the workload was too disturbed… so far as Thomas had heard, the animators were behind enough as it was. The last thing he wanted was Joey to chew him out for letting Bendy disrupt them, as if it was Thomas’ fault…

Shaking his head, Thomas headed to the first floor.

Prior to Thomas ever working for Joey Drew Studios, an animator by the name of Henry had supposedly done the bulk of the drawings for the company. Nowadays they had a big open area for all the animators, crammed in with a bunch of desks. It was here Bendy liked to frequent.

Sure enough, when Thomas slunched into this area, there was the Ink Demon, curling almost double over some poor bastard’s desk and dripping ink all over it. Thomas sighed. At least nobody else was here yet…. Still, it was probably too much to hope for that he could get Bendy out and Wally sent up here to clean before anybody arrived. “Bendy. Come on. You gotta get back to my office.”

At the sound of Thomas’ voice, the Ink Demon lifted his head. He bared his teeth wider, and his horns wiggled in his usual greeting.

“Yes, hi,” Thomas acknowledged tiredly. “C’mon.” Normally a single order was all it took to get Bendy moving and back to the administration offices (if not specifically Tom’s). This time, Bendy lowered his head again. He was gripping the edges of the desk tightly, and making strange, short motions with his body. Suggestive was one word for it, but to Thomas that implication was so absolutely impossible and absurd with relation to the Ink Demon, that the thought flitted away immediately.

Frowning, Thomas continued, “Hey. Did ya hear me? We gotta skiddadle before you go startling someone else.”

Again, Bendy looked up, and made a greeting keen, before refocusing on whatever he was doing.

Okay, that was very weird. Bendy almost always listened to him.

Thomas’ brow furrowed, and he stalked towards the demon. “Bendy, c’mon, what are you even-“ The words died as he rounded to the other side of the desk. All the color left his face.

The first thought was a horrified _that is huge_ and the second _oh god I didn’t even know he had one._

There was a thick tapered _thing_ curling between the Ink Demon’s legs. It didn’t take any stretch of the imagination to understand exactly what that was. But he’d never had _anything_ there before. The idea of him having any sort of sexuality had never occurred to Thomas; he’d simply taken the demon to be largely genderless and devoid of sexual need. That had obviously been a huge misconception, given that the demon was now rutting against the desk, helplessly seeking friction. He made no efforts whatsoever to hide what he was doing, not having the first idea that these things were private.

It had to be the least comfortable way to get off, and Bendy must have agreed, because he directed his grin at Thomas, and the noise that escaped his throat was a confused, desperate sort of sound.

Thomas, for his part, spluttered incoherently for several seconds. His cigarette dropped to the floor, and yelping, Thomas had the presence of mind to stamp it out.

Finally words choked from his throat, “s-stop that- you can’t-“ he swung a frantic look behind him, “That’s not appropriate; _anybody could see you_!” he flapped his arms wildly.

The Ink Demon just looked faintly puzzled, tilting his head at Thomas as if the mechanic could explain.

“Office, now!” Thomas hissed. God, the Ink Demon had no idea. Not a clue. Thomas grabbed the demon’s skeletal wrist and tried to yank him towards the door, “Come on, you need to get out of here-“

They couldn't possibly make it all the way back to the administrative offices without _someone_ noticing this new development. Thomas’ brain whirred trying to think of where else he could stick Bendy until the demon figured out his little problem. He was caught up in brainstorming when his tugging finally pried Bendy from the desk.

He immediately regretted this when the demon only left the desk in favor of Thomas, and then suddenly Thomas had an armful of demon rubbing up against his body.

Oh no. No no no. “ _Bendy_ ,” he growled, staggering back under the weight; Bendy followed as if he were attached. With all the ink pouring down Thomas’ front and shoulders, he wouldn't be surprised if Bendy _was_. Worse, the demon was curling his spine, hips impatiently jolting.

“Bendy, you take care of this on your own,” Thomas struggled to detach himself, “on your own and in private!” Thomas ripped himself free from all the ink and tripped backwards.

Right. Couldn't make it to the administrative offices, but there was a closet just out of this room… Yeah, that would work. Somewhere private for Bendy to deal with his needs. _Without_ flashing half the studio. Jesus, Tom couldn't believe this was his life now.

“Come on,” Thomas gestured furiously. “Bendy, the animators are gonna come in any minute.”

He could’ve collapsed in relief when the huge awkward creature stumbled after him. They made an odd, short train out into the hall, and Thomas shoved him into the closet, snicking the door shut behind him. Christ. “Just take care of it and then I’ll let you out,” Thomas told the blank door, praying that Bendy didn’t get it in his head to walk through the walls and end up in some other place.

The noise that responded was a long, mournful lowing. Then a wet loud thump which Thomas was almost certain meant the demon had just thudded his entire body against the door.

“Bendy,” he hissed. “Just – use your hand. Don’t you know how-” God, he probably didn’t. This was the first time Thomas had ever seen the demon with any genitalia at all. Given the fact Thomas was almost always around him (or hunting him down), this was likely his first time _having_ a dick.

Thomas wracked his brain remembering his own first few experiences (shoving aside the guilt that he had associated with them as a kid). But he’d never needed help… he’d just discovered what felt nice, rubbing between his thigh and his shorts, rutting against the mattress, and then finally pumping with his hand. Clearly Bendy’s attempt with the desk was a start, and Thomas had no doubt the demon could figure this out on his own. But he wasn’t convinced Bendy was even trying anymore. By the sound of it, he was just scratching at the door and whining.

Damnit, at this rate someone would come by and wonder what the hell Thomas was doing before the demon got anywhere.

“Fine,” Thomas growled through the door. “Step back.”

He opened the door, shimmied through, and shut it behind.

Part of him had hoped the Ink Demon’s problem would have gone away by now, but he wasn’t surprised at all to find that wasn’t true.

“Use your hand.” Thomas explained, crudely imitated the gesture.

His demonstration did no good whatsoever when the Ink Demon elected to melt against him instead. Thomas’ spine and head struck the door; he grunted as chilly breath gusted over his hair. It had never been more apparent how huge the demon was compared to a normal human, even Tom, who had never been lacking in height.

“Off,” Thomas grunted, trying to sound forceful and utterly failing. Bendy was much, much too close, nuzzling his face against the top of Tom’s head, grasping at him with his weird ill-matched hands. He effortlessly pinned Thomas against the door like a bug. His ink was spilling into Thomas’ hair, spotting his face, staining his clothes. And his arousal was huge and twisting against Thomas’ stomach impatiently. The tiny, jolting thrusts seemed to be more instinct than voluntary.

Thomas’ breath came shorter in fear – which was something he hadn’t felt around the Ink Demon in a long, long time. For a heartbeat, he felt like he was pinned by some wild animal. He nearly panicked, until reason pointed out that for all Bendy’s size and strength, he wasn’t hurting Thomas. For all his neediness, he wasn’t being violent. In fact, he was still nuzzling Thomas gently, and his touches, while frighteningly strong, were mindful to not cause pain.

This wasn’t a wild animal. The Ink Demon was… some kind of monstrosity, sure, but Thomas knew Bendy. He knew that he never meant harm, for starters. Hell, the demon would curl up in the corner and be miserable every time people got genuinely upset around him. This was the same creature that had moped for hours after finding a headless Boris plush, until Shawn finally sewed the thing back together.

Thomas let out a shaky exhale. So yes, he was scared. But this was Bendy. The Ink Demon. And he was probably immensely confused right now. Panicking wasn’t going to help him. He didn’t understand anything about what was happening, and certainly had no idea about how society normally perceived this sort of thing.

Forcing his words into steadiness, Thomas said, “You use your hand. Like… like this.” Another voice piped up in his head wondering if he was crazy and reminding him this was not part of his job. Just leave and let someone else deal with Bendy. But he stifled the thought, and swallowing his nerves, snuck a hand between the Ink Demon’s legs.

Thomas grasped the black tendril firmly in his hand. It was lithe, slick but smooth. Like a powerful, flexible muscle. It twitched as soon as Thomas grabbed it, and the Ink Demon made a deep, approving chirr, something that sighed out in the air between them. Thomas’ heart thundered. Okay. He was about to do this. _Just don’t think about it._ It was just like taking care of himself. Except…. He was jacking off a seven-foot monstrosity. Right.

“This is so you can learn,” Thomas instructed. “Pay attention.”

He doubted anything he was saying was getting through. Bendy leaned against him bonelessly, panting and weakly jerking his hips.

Thomas wasn’t even sure exactly what to do because this looked and felt vastly different than his own. But he experimentally squeezed and pumped; he must have been doing something right, because a rumbling moan emerged from Bendy’s throat. His huge jaws parted and a wet tongue lathered from the top of Tom’s head, down over his ear, and along the length of his throat. Thomas cringed away. “Bendy… urgh, stop….”

The tongue immediately slithered right back into his mouth.

Right. The demon did know _stop_. It was something Tom had to say far too often, but Bendy was mindful about listening. To be fair, he probably also didn’t want Tom to stop. God, this was weird. He didn’t know exactly what he was doing. Bizarrely, the thought struck him that this was absolutely not a Joey-approved work-sanctioned activity, and an ill-suited snort of a laugh burst out.

“You better behave the rest of today,” Thomas remarked, wondering if he was laughing about the absurdity of the situation or the idea of Joey finding out. He prayed Joey never did. … They should probably hurry this along.

He squeezed lightly, trying to find just the right amount of pressure to deliver the greatest effect. He found it, and the demon trembled against him. His arms wrapped around Tom’s shoulders, only further enveloping the mechanic. The air was thick with the stench of ink, and filled with the Ink Demon’s heavy, raspy breathing. Imaginary icy fingers trickled down Thomas’ back.

What a strange sensation, something so big and powerful, _trembling_. Huffing and panting in Thomas’ ear, while his arms clenched tighter around Tom’s shoulders. His noises were degenerating into short, eager whines.

After this point, Thomas had to do very little but keep his hand in a loose fist, while the Ink Demon rutted animalistically into it, still clinging as if for dear life against Thomas. It felt good, so he wanted more. That’s sometimes how beautifully simple things were for the Ink Demon. In this case, he didn’t hesitate to use Thomas’ hand for his pleasure.

Thomas could barely believe the smile that quirked at the corner of his lips. “Feels nice, huh?” he said gruffly. The responding noise was unmistakable agreement. Tom didn’t want to admit it to himself, but hearing that noise… and feeling the Ink Demon come apart… there was something guilty but good to it.

Without thinking, Thomas reached up with some half formed idea to cradle the Ink Demon’s head, when thick cold ink spurted over his other wrist and hand. The demon exhaled hard over Thomas’ hair, his grip on his shoulders tightening to the point of pain as he rode out the last, jerking thrusts.

Then it was over. He melted against Thomas, panting and purring low in his chest.

Thomas tried to shake away the feeling of… disappointment. A feeling that it ended too soon.

Bendy’s hands slipped away. The demon staggered back on his unsteady legs. His grin was as wide as ever. Whatever appendage had been between his legs was now gone. For a moment, Thomas stared at the other’s grinning face, trying to read something there. Some depth, or emotion. Some indication of what this might have meant to him.

He couldn't pick up anything before the Ink Demon turned and walked straight through the wall, leaving nothing but a splotch of ink behind him, and Thomas with a flurry of muddled thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite his intimidating appearance, the Ink Demon was extraordinarily naive and innocent to the ways of the world. Without anyone to guide him, he would have no idea how to handle something like arousal on his own. Not to mention, if left to his own devices, he would have traumatized a good collection of animators by being found rutting on a desk. Thomas had to intervene. That was how he reasoned through what he had done.

He tread down to take care of the pipes, and the day progressed largely as normal. Mid-afternoon Joey came yelling after him to remove the demon from the toy shop, where he had apparently decided to take residence, and then Thomas had to show up to escort him out, while Shawn said, 

“It really ain’t a problem, mister, he’s harmless as they come!”

Thomas just sighed. “I know. But gotta do what Mister Drew says.” And Joey hated the Ink Demon wandering around. 

Once they were safely back in his office, Thomastold the swaying abomination to “please just stay put.”

The Ink Demon grinned away, but obeyed.

The rest of the day passed without incident. It came to be time to leave. 

As Thomas shuffled his papers on his desk, getting everything in order for tomorrow, the Ink Demon hovered by his shoulder silently, cooing. The Ink Demon was clever enough to recognize this usual pattern meant that Thomas was preparing to leave. During this time, he sometimes got particularly attached and tried to follow Thomas out. Tonight proved to be no exception as he trailed Thomas to his coat rack, and then to the office door.

“No,” Thomas said firmly. The Ink Demon stopped. His expression didn’t change - _couldn’t_ change - but his body was stiff and hunched. He made an upset keen. 

Thomas sighed. “We’ve been over this. You can’t come home with me. You belong here.”

A mournful lowing. 

Thomas shut the door; the locked clicked. Both he and the demon knew this really did nothing, what with Bendy’s ability to just phase through walls. But it was what Joey wanted. Thomas was absolutely sure that the Ink Demon wandered around at night, but more often than not he was back in Thomas’ office come morning, so that was all Thomas cared about.

That night and morning Thomas thankfully managed to not think about the fact he’d jacked off a seven foot soulless monstrosity that Joey had created. He came into work the next day, tousle-haired and yawning and his thoughts blissfully free of any of yesterday’s events. Before going to his office, he swung by the break room to get coffee. 

Jack Fain, the grizzled lyricist with kind blue eyes, was already there, hunched over a table. 

“Mornin’ Tom,” he greeted.

Thomas grunted and gave a half-wave.

“Wally passed not long ago,” Jack said. 

“Yeah?”

“Another broken pipe down by the Heavenly Toys area, I think. He was in a mighty hurry.”

“Great.” Thomas grabbed his coffee. Another pipe to fix. That would set him back again. The damn Ink Machine was breaking down left and right. 

He slunched to his office, deciding to grab a pack of smokes before resigning himself to a morning of pipe repair. 

He nearly choked on his coffee when he opened his office door, and the Ink Demon was there, shamelessly erect and ready to go. 

The Ink Demon chirped happily at seeing Thomas; the engineer swiftly slammed the door behind him, “Christ, Bendy, you can’t-“

But already the demon had crossed the room to rub himself against Thomas.

“No no-“ Thomas wiped his mouth and backed up. “Look, this isn’t gonna become a regular thing-“

A long whine.

“You gotta do it yourself, buddy.”

English was really not the Ink Demon’s strong suit. He jolted his hips needily, long cock arched up hopefully. 

“No,” Thomas said more firmly; hunching his shoulders, the Ink Demon looked pathetically at him, but approached no closer. “Damnit,” Thomas muttered. He got it, he really did. Sexual frustration was nothing to blink an eye at. But he had no interest in repeating the events of yesterday, and at some point the Ink Demon needed to figure how to do this crap on his own. Every man figured it out at some point or another - and sure, the demon was… well, a _demon._ But the same principle applied. 

“You can’t always have someone helping you,” Thomas bit out. “Here, look-“ He grabbed the Ink Demon’s hand - which was weirdly soft, wet, and much larger than his own. It was a testament to the demon’s docility that he allowed Thomas to manipulate it. Thomas guided Bendy’s hand to his dick, and wrapped his fingers around it. “Like that,” Thomas said. “Now pump.”

Thomas let go and made the crude gesture. When Bendy merely stared at him, hand pointlessly and loosely holding his own dick, Thomas scowled. “Like I did yesterday!”

Bendy’s grin vibrated. He snared Thomas’ hand swiftly and it was unmistakable where he wanted it to go.

“No!” Thomas yanked back. “ _Your_ hand, Bendy. Yours.”

A piteous moan. Thomas slapped away another entreaty, and forced Bendy’s hands back to his own dick. “ _You_ do it. No- I’m not mad at you, stop giving me that look. I need to go fix the damn machine. You stay here. Hear me? Stay. Here. And err-“ Thomas considered giving some instruction about clean-up (or at least strategic aiming) but decided against making things too complicated for Bendy. “Try not to get ink all over my work,” he finally ended with, exasperated. 

Bendy looked after him longingly, still bizarrely clutching himself without making any move to do anything about it. 

Well. Thomas gave him the tools and knowledge he needed. He just needed to make the next step. Wasn’t Thomas’ fault if he didn’t. Hell, Thomas _knew_ how good it felt to have someone else helping you out with those matters, but this was no perfect world. A man needed to learn to do these things on his own.

Thomas locked the door behind him, rubbing his head. God, what a way to start the morning already. He slunk down to the Heavenly Toys shop to find Shawn amused by the delays in his work, and Wally frayed in an attempt to clean up the mess quickly. Looked like a pipe had indeed burst, and one of the big ones, too, spewing ink all over Shawn’s machines and the floor, and ruining some merchandise. 

Thomas spent the next half hour working on the pipe while listening to Shawn happily chatter away, undisturbed by the fact he was accomplishing absolutely nothing. Thomas fielded his chatter with the occasional grunt or “mhm.” Apparently Shawn had a freakish lack of concern that Joey might fire him if he needed produce enough toys in a given time period. Frankly, Thomas was impressed Joey _hadn’t_ fired him yet.

Thomas had barely made any headway before when one of the younger animators (Thomas can never remember all their names - they seem to come and go with every season) come barreling around the corner, pale behind all his freckles. He skitters to a stop and stares at Thomas with big eyes. 

“What?” Thomas snapped.

“Um, are you - are you Thomas, sir?”

“Yeah, why?”

The kid wrestled his hands together. “Um, they told me to come get you-“

“They?”

“The other animators, um, floor one - Look, sir, you better hurry-“ the animator swallowed hard. “It’s that demon-“

Thomas swore and accidentally dropped his wrench on his foot. Hopping on one foot, he swore more _colorfully,_ and Shawn whistled. 

“You’d better go,” Wally said, “this ol’ pipe can wait.”

Damn demon. If Joey heard he got out again…. 

“Yeah, yeah, lead,” Thomas told the animator, who nodded and jogged back the way he came, Thomas following at his heels and half-limping with every step. “What’s he got himself into this time?” Thomas muttered, mostly worried about how _many_ people had seen him (the more there were, the greater chance news would get back to Joey)

“You’d better see for yourself,” the animator replied nervously, which did nothing to help Thomas’ gradually approaching coronary. 

They took the stairs two at a time (Thomas didn’t trust the elevator in the slightest), and then jogged down the hall while animators and other employees on either side flowed past and cast nervous, terrified looks.   


Great. So a _lot_ of people had seen the demon, based on the looks on their faces. 

They whipped around the corner and stumbled into the animator’s main area, with all the desks scattered about. A few animators were still in there, cowering against the wall, too afraid to make breaks for the exit. 

And Bendy - Oh God. 

Bendy was standing in the middle of the room, upright and grinning, while his swollen dick was proudly erect. 

Thomas’ stomach dropped. God, no. Bendy was flashing the entire studio. No wonder everyone had looked extra mortified. Thomas dreaded to imagine just how _many_ people had probably see him. 

“Yeah,” the young animator beside him muttered, eyes looking everywhere but at the Ink Demon’s shamelessly exposed genitalia. 

“Christ.”

The Ink Demon’s head swung around upon hearing Thomas. His grin vibrated, an excited chirrup rising in his throat. 

This was a disaster. To only make it worse, the demon began stumbling towards Thomas, his sinuous dick furling eagerly. Thomas understood, really. Bendy didn’t understand that this was wrong, that you couldn't just go flashing the entire damn studio. And of course, he had the very positive association with Thomas bringing him release. But this couldn't go on.At all.

Thomas had to stop it, _now._ He squared his shoulders. 

“Bendy,” he growled as angry as he could make it. 

The Ink Demon froze in place. He was very sensitive to _tones_ , and Thomas’ tone had never sounded so severe before.

“My office. _Right now!”_

Bendy slunk back, doing his best to look small (which really didn’t work at all). An animator skittered frantically out of his way as the demon moodily went through the wall and vanished in a large puddle of ink. 

Thomas slumped. Now he was going to have to deal with an upset demon, no doubt, but at the least he wasn’t traumatizing everyone anymore… Though looking around the room, Thomas groaned. It was a little too late.

“Well,” Thomas said, “back to work, everyone.” 

They all just stared. Grumbling, Thomas made a hurried departure. Joey was definitely going to hear about this, and chew Thomas out for it. Great.

Thomas returned to his office, prepared to give Bendy a lecture on what was appropriate or not. He was imminently relieved upon entering to find Bendy’s _problem_ was no longer there. Thomas wanted to hope that the Ink Demon had simply taken care of it himself. Much more likely was that Bendy had been so upset about being told off that he’d lost the need to. 

Based on the fact he was exorbitantly dripping ink and standing in the corner trying to appear small, Thomas could guess it was the latter.

“Bendy,” Thomas started sternly; the demon grabbed his horns and looked away. “You can’t do that crap, you hear me? You embarrassed and terrified half the studio, and now I’ll be lucky if Joey doesn’t fire my ass! Look, that shit is supposed to be _private_ , Bendy, do you get that? Private. That means you don’t go around flashing people!” Thomas gestured wildly. He knew Bendy didn’t necessarily understand complex English; unfortunately social conventions normally demanded sex be talked about in euphemisms that Bendy wouldn’t at all understand. 

He couldn't tell whether the demon understood or not; Bendy was just hunching in a smaller and smaller position by the wall, clutching his horns. If Thomas continued at this rate, the Ink Demon would probably disappear into the wall and hide somewhere else. 

Thomas forced himself to calm down. “Look,” he said, “Just don’t do that again, okay? That is a _no-no._ Don’t-“ Thomas gestured as his crotch region, “don’t wander around when you’re all worked up, okay?"

The Ink Demon dripped unhappily. 

Thomas ran his fingers through his hair, trying to figure out how to make this clearer, when the door slammed open and in stormed Joey. 

The tirade was half Joey being derisive and furious at Thomas’ “incompetence’ and half disgust that his own creation should turn out to be a pervert. Somewhere in the mess of all the yelling and stomping and slamming, the Ink Demon vanished in the wall. 

“Great to get your help,” Thomas muttered under his breath. 

“Terrorizing my beloved employees!” Joey continued dramatically, “Thomas, I can’t believe you allowed this! Can you imagine if the press learned? If news got out? Now I have to go and convince two dozen people not to talk! You know how much work you just made for me!”

“Can’t imagine,” Thomas said drily. Thankfully, Joey was so caught up in his lecture that he didn’t catch the sarcasm, and he ranted on, red-faced and furious until he finally stormed off and slammed the door. 

Thomas slumped into his desk chair. All this and he still needed to fix the pipe. And _still_ hadn’t gotten to working on the Ink Machine like he was supposed to. 

The sound of dripping alerted him to the fact that the Ink Demon had returned; Thomas lifted his head tiredly. 

“Don’t like Joey, huh?” He greeted.

The Ink Demon’s head made a motion that could have been accidental or could have been a head shake, but Thomas took it as confirmation.

“Yeah, nobody does,” he replied. “Sorry for lashing out, Bendy, it’s just… this stuff has gotta stop. You get it?” Thomas looked firmly at him. “You gotta stay here, like Joey wants. _Especially_ if you’re- y’know.”

Bendy lowed softly. 

It was a pathetic existence, being trapped in a single office space. Thomas knew that, and he hated that he had to ask it of Bendy. But it wasn’t like the world was ready to have an Ink Demon living amongst people. This begged the ultimate question - what would happen to Bendy, in the long run? If the studio shut down? If Joey got tired of him? But these thoughts Thomas shoved away, as he always did. There were no nice answers. 

Thomas pushed off his desk. “I gotta get back to work. Stay here.”

He shut the door on Bendy’s static face. After an emotionally charged situation like that, Thomas was willing to bet that Bendy would stay in his office for the remainder of the day. But that didn’t mean Thomas’ struggles were over. 

He returned to the Heavenly Toys workshop to continue fixing the pipe, only to come across Shawn grinning mischievously. “So is what I be hearin’ true?” 

Thomas knew immediately what the toy-maker meant, but he still snapped, “Is _what_ true?”

Shawn leaned in, “the demon was runnin’ around with his-“ Shawn wiggled his finger meaningfully, “hangin’ out?”

Thomas considered lying and then decided there was no point. Shawn already knew, he just wanted confirmation. “Yes.”

Shawn laughed hard and slapped his leg. “And y’fetched him all yourself!”

Thomas grunted. 

“Tell me, did he do anythin’ - well -“ Shawn bounced his eyebrows.

Thomas hit his head on a low hanging pipe in his distraction, his heart skipping as he stupidly panicked over the idea that Shawn might know about what Thomas did yesterday. But that was dumb. They’d been alone, seen by nobody. “No,” Thomas growled, a little harsher than intended. “Just went away on its own. Let me work.”

Shawn chuckled and made a few more jibes, but gradually the (largely one-sided) conversation eased onto other topics, for which Thomas was imminently grateful. 

That evening, stomping back into his office covered in ink and especially grumpy, Thomas came across Bendy again (good - maybe he had stayed there the rest of the day.). 

Bendy, very much unlike usual, was actually sitting on the ground, his legs drawn up near his chest and his chin on his knees. He looked especially odd like this. His body wasn’t accustomed to nor designed for sitting, and Thomas was fairly certain he spent all his time standing.

“Hey,” Thomas said quietly. The demon looked up.

Thomas settled next to him. “What are you doin’ buddy?"

A soft lowing. 

He probably still felt bad after Thomas getting upset with him earlier. As scary as he looked to people that were unfamiliar with him, Bendy was really very gentle and docile. He was overly sensitive to times when people were upset or distressed, seeming to have little idea about how he could cause such things. 

Thomas sighed. With Bendy sitting, he could finally reach his horns, and he did this, rubbing one soothingly. “Sorry, Bendy,” he said. “Not mad at you, okay? Just a tough day.”

Bendy leaned into his touch, humming. 

Thomas stayed here a moment longer, letting the Ink Demon revel in the touch, not unlike a dog seeking attention. But the clock was ticking, and Thomas was over time. “Gotta go,” Thomas told him, giving him one last pat between his horns. “Don’t give me that look - I’ll be back tomorrow.” 

The next morning, Thomas entered the studio with tousled hair and big yawns. He skipped the coffee, deciding he'd start his work day with a cigarette instead. When he opened his office door, the Ink Demon was dutifully waiting for him, grinning and standing and swaying much as normal. 

"Morning," Thomas told him, relieved to see the demon wasn't all sexually provoked this morning. But it turned out his relief was for nothing, because the demon simply wasn't turned on _yet._ As Thomas brushed past him and began rifling through his desk, Bendy made an impatient noise. 

When Thomas looked back, he groaned and slapped a hand to his face. 

"Seriously?" he uttered. 

Bendy purred, his newly formed cock long and dripping. 

"Just _seeing_ me-?" Was that really all it took for him?

Bendy seemed unsure about getting closer, what with the way Thomas had reacted yesterday, but he still made a hopefully chirrup. 

"God." Thomas tried not to think too hard about the fact the demon apparently had a _thing_ for him now. It was clearly just association and nothing more. Still, it was too weird to think about.

Well, Thomas had two options. Leave Bendy to his own devices, and pray there wouldn't be a repeat of yesterday. Or…take care of it and make sure there wouldn't be a repeat.

Grumbling, Thomas locked the door behind his back. He pulled up his sleeves in an effort to avoid stains. Nodding gruffly to the Ink Demon, he said, “All right, c’mere.” 

He’d have to wash his hands after this. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the spiritual sequel to Get a Man Who Works with His Mouth. 
> 
> I regret the naming convention of these two stories already.

Thomas was having trouble grasping what his life had become in the past few weeks. On paper, it was easy enough to outline. Every morning, he came into work. He jacked off the towering abomination everyone called a demon. Then he set to work making repairs and modifications to the machine that had created said abomination. The few minutes after his shift ended were often, again, reserved for the Ink Demon, except this time sans handjob (much to Thomas’ relief). It wasn’t like the demon actually _talked,_ so more often than not this time was filled with Thomas droning about his day or about stories from when he was younger. It seemed to entertain the Ink Demon, at any rate. 

So sure, it was straightforward to outline all that step by step in his head. 

But if Thomas spent even a fraction of a second thinking about any detail -

That’s when he’d have to sit and contemplate the madness his life had become. 

But the thing was, Thomas _needed_ his job. In this economy, you couldn't just drop and pick up jobs like it was nothing. He needed a consistent salary to keep afloat, and in order to prevent Joey from firing him, he had two tasks: make the Ink Machine functional, and prevent the Ink Demon from terrorizing the studio. Whether or not that second task was part of his original job description or not (read: it wasn’t) didn’t matter to Mister Drew. 

So Thomas had become familiar with a great deal of things he sort’ve wished he hadn’t. For instance, he knew just how hard to squeeze to get the best reactions out of the demon. He knew the sweetest spots to brush his thumb over, and he had become far too familiar with the thick feel of the demon’s slick cock in his loosely clenched fist. He, apparently, became a champ at delivering sexual pleasure to a goddamn demon. Not something he’d ever wanted.

He repeatedly tried to persuade the Ink Demon to get himself off, but Bendy seemed ridiculously insistent upon Thomas doing it. So it became part of his Thomas’ routine, whether he liked it or not.

Then a flu outbreak spread across the entire studio. Thomas chugged on for a good week or two, proud of his healthy constitution, while other workers took sick days. Then it started with nausea. A sore throat. A runny nose. Aching muscles. He forced himself on for another day, sniffling his way through the morning handjob; constantly losing focus later.

Wally told him repeatedly he needed to take time to recover; Thomas shrugged him off. At least until he woke up the following day with a burning fever and delirium. He called the studio and through a raspy phlegm-clogged throat confessed that he needed a sick day or two. His voice alone must have convinced Joey that he was indeed, far too ill to come in, because the day off was swiftly granted. Joey, who had thus far avoided the flu, urged Thomas not to come in until he was done spewing the disease all over the place. 

Thomas slept most of that day and was too exhausted to contemplate the potential consequences of his actions.

The next morning he thought about the Ink Demon, and the usual… activities… the two of them partook in. Thomas frantically called and asked how the demon was doing. Joey, surprisingly calm, boomed that the demon had been doing just fine. Moping in Thomas’ office, perhaps, but not bothering anyone else! Joey laughed and wondered if the demon didn’t do better _without_ Thomas, which hurt in a surprising number of ways.

“Wally’s looking after the little devil,” Joey assured him. “Keeping him in check!”

It wasn’t until the next Monday that Thomas returned to work, with only some sniffles and a cough. When he opened his office door, he was almost immediately slammed into the wall by an enormous very heavy mass of ink. 

Not unlike a _giant_ puppy, the Ink Demon rubbed his large head on top of Thomas’ and clutched at him eagerly with his mismatched hands.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Thomas laughed, “now - can I move?” As endearing as the demon’s excitement might be, he was still over a foot taller than Thomas and weighed god-knows-how-much. Being squashed up against the wall by something like that could be a little unsettling, especially after not seeing the demon for a while. 

Thomas managed to ease out of his grasp, but the Ink Demon followed close behind, looming over and grinning ominously. Thomas could easily remember why people found him unnerving. But it was clear right now he was just delighted to have Thomas back. “Miss me, huh?” 

The demon purred. 

“You too, buddy. Good to be back.” Thomas looked at his work desk, all the papers and tools scattered about that he’d left all a mess after staggering out of work sick. “Got a lot to catch up on.” It came out as a groan, but he was glad to finally be here catching up instead of at home dwelling on all the things he was falling _more_ behind on. 

He glanced over at Bendy, thinking back to the way the two of them normally started the morning. But unlike other mornings, the Ink Demon didn’t have an erection. This was odd, considering just how _prompt_ he’d been for weeks. But maybe Thomas’ absence had thrown him out of the look. Less likely, maybe he’d finally figured out how to handle things himself. Hell, either way, Thomas wasn’t complaining. Might get some good work done early!

The remainder of the day went normally, with its usual chaos and overabundance of ink. It did not, however, include chasing down the demon, for which Thomas was imminently grateful. Maybe he needed to give the guy a big thanks for his good behavior. With that in mind, Thomas swung by the toy shop in the late afternoon and snagged a plush. The Ink Demon loved collecting those - Shawn didn’t even care, happy enough to donate merchandise to the resident demon. 

Once the work day was over and Thomas returned to his desk, Bendy was there waiting, grin big and eager. 

“Hey,” Thomas said, “got another toy for you.” 

The Ink Demon quickly snatched the toy and squeezed it excitedly, horns wiggling. He squished it to his chest, promptly soaking it with ink, but that was to be expected. No toy of Bendy’s stayed ink-free for long. 

Next the demon turned and vanished into the wall, which may have seemed rude and abrupt, but Thomas knew what he was doing. Bendy had a store of merchandise and toys that he’d squirreled away. It was in a locked door on floor 3, some small room that probably had some intended use but Joey seemed to have forgotten it existed. Only Thomas, Shawn and Wally knew that Bendy had made it his. The first thing he did upon getting a new gift was tuck it away in that room. 

Sure enough, Bendy shortly returned empty handed, but looking particularly happy. 

He also returned much more… _excited_ than he had left.

“Too much to hope for that you could go a whole day without it, huh?” Thomas said.

The Ink Demon ducked his head as if guilty, but his erection didn’t flag in the slightest. 

“Don’t even pretend like you feel bad.”

Bendy sidled closer, his unusual dick curling over itself hopefully.

“All right, all right, but I gotta make it quick.” Thomas glanced to the door, trying to remember if he had locked it. He was still contemplating this when the demon’s huge cartoonish hand unexpectedly seized his head. “Whu-?” The gooey fingers squeezed his skull painfully tightly, and he wrenched Thomas’ neck with the force that he shoved Thomas’ head right up against Bendy’s crotch.

“The fuck-“ Thomas twisted to the side to evade.

The demon reached out again - Thomas ducked the grab, “ _Hell are you doing_ -!?”

This time the Ink Demon's more human hand shot out, faster than Thomas could avoid. Spider-like fingers clenched in Thomas’ hair, and Thomas was man-handled into a hunch, his ass crammed against the desk and his face in the demon’s crotch.

The slick black appendage lathered across his sealed lips, coating them with viscous ink. 

“Mhfhf!” Thomas breathed hard through his nose as he was terrified of unclenching his teeth. He squirmed, but the grip on his hair was tight enough to nearly wrench it out. With that vice grip, and Bendy’s sinuous dick pushing at his lips, Thomas felt terrified for the first time in a long time. The Ink Demon was much larger and much more powerful than any human. But he normally behaved so complacently that Thomas had gained some level of comfort around him. That was suddenly, swiftly, gone. Bendy could so easily hurt him, could so easily make him do things he didn’t want. 

And if Thomas wasn’t careful, those things were going to happen. 

Thomas slammed his hand on Bendy’s thigh, and twisted his head away (crying out at the wrenching of hair follicles). “No!” He spat, disgusted by the sharp taste of ink seeping into his mouth. “Bendy, _no_!”

A pause. Thomas’ stomach dropped. If Bendy disobeyed, if that command didn’t work anymore-

Then the inky fingers released his hair. The Ink Demon stepped back. 

Gasping, Thomas swooped his head up and pressed his back against the desk, panting and scrubbing his face clean.

That - that had been terrifying. 

The demon tilted his head to the side.

Thomas raked his fingers through his hair, slowly getting his breathing under control. There was no doubt at all about what the demon had just tried to get Thomas to do. It was disturbing, terrifying. Disgusting. 

The handjobs were one thing - one thing that Thomas reluctantly tolerated already. But putting his _mouth_ there - no. No. 

“Don’t,” Thomas finally uttered hoarsely. “Don’t _ever_ do that.” He shot out of the room and slammed the door, shaking. 

He didn’t notice until he was halfway home that he’d forgotten his coffee cup and coat at home. But he didn’t care to return.

It was only late in the evening that he calmed down enough to think logically about what had happened. 

The first thought that occurred to him was that that behavior was very uncharacteristic of Bendy. The Ink Demon was normally very gentle around people - socially abysmal, sure, like a child, but… he never intended on hurting people. There was no point in staying mad at him - if he hurt Thomas, he hadn’t meant to. If he’d scared him, he’d had no intention of it. That Thomas was sure of. 

But what he _had_ wanted was clear, and that’s what scared Thomas. How would Bendy even know about those things? How would it have occurred to him to do that? 

Thomas shook off the thought, wanting nothing more than to forget what had happened. 

Thomas came in the next day ready to make amends, only to find the office empty. No demon. Nothing. So much for the plan to quietly explain to the Ink Demon that he wasn’t mad but that no, trying to force someone to give you oral sex was _not_ okay. 

But Bendy was probably off sulking somewhere…He’d have to find him later. Thomas sighed. Whatever. He had work. 

Thomas stomped off to the Ink Machine, but couldn't stop thinking about yesterday’s events. Of course, he did his best not to dwell on what the demon had almost made him do, but that wasn’t very successful.

Instead, he constantly found himself returning to a question he couldn't answer. 

See, according to Joey, Bendy had been cooperative during Thomas’ absence. Hadn’t wandered around the halls with his dick hanging out, being a menace to everybody. Not even after days. That was… a little weird. Now, Thomas might look at that positively and think that maybe Bendy was finally obeying rules. That he wanted to be good and do nothing wrong. But Thomas was realistic, not positive. After several days without release, Bendy _had_ to have gone exploring. 

And in his explorations… what if he found someone who… helped him, like Thomas. Except that someone had to have taken things a step further, teaching the demon new things that Thomas would never. Things that weren’t okay for him to learn, like oral sex. 

Thomas’ stomach churned. God, no, that was too ridiculous to consider. What he’d done was already insane - but he’d done because he was tasked with looking out for Bendy, and sure, he’d gotten a soft spot, he’d been willing to help the demon out where it was sorely needed. But who else would? And to - to use their mouth on him-

It sounded too insane to be true. But it would explain a lot. The Ink Demon's actions would make more sense: he hadn’t been trying to hurt Thomas. Someone had just led him to believe that was _okay_ when it _wasn’t_. 

But who?

Wally? He’d been tasked with looking after the demon, after all. But that made no sense; he couldn't see Wally doing something like that-

Thomas was caught up in these stressful thoughts when Wally himself skittered around the corner, eyes blown wide. 

“Tom, Tom-“

“Mgh?” Thomas lifted his head, a few nails in his teeth.

“‘Nother pipe burst, in the Music Department-“

Thomas groaned through his teeth, rolling his eyes up. 

_Here it goes again._

He slunched to the Music Department to find an irate Sammy Lawrence hovering just outside of his office, splattered head to toe in ink. Thomas had only seen Sammy a few times during his employment at Joey Drew Studios, but every meeting left him with a bad taste. The man spoke perpetually with an arrogant tone, and held himself like he was royalty or some bullcrap. There was admittedly some satisfaction in seeing the pretentious Music Director soaked with ink and grumpy like a wet cat. 

At least until Sammy opened his mouth.

“How the hell,” Sammy started; Thomas already dreaded the next words, “am I supposed to write tunes for four - _four_ \- cartoons, when I can’t enter my own office?”

“Write in the break room?” Thomas couldn’t resist replying dully, brushing past Sammy and setting up his tools to repair the pipe. 

Sammy puffed himself up like an insulted bird. “ _Music_ is not like engineering. A man can’t just do this anywhere, he needs-“

“All right, all right-“ Thomas waved him aside. “Gotta fix the pipe.”

Instead of leaving, Sammy hovered nearby watching, which was weird. Sammy didn’t particularly _like_ company - that much Thomas knew. So what reason-

“The demon,” Sammy said, in a very very odd voice. “Do you still -“ Sammy’s lip turned up, “look after him?”

What. That was random. 

“Yeah.” Thomas didn’t know how else to respond to that. 

Sammy’s eyes gleamed. “He’s magnificent, isn’t he? I imagine he gets restless, cooped up in your office. It’s cruel to treat something like him that way.”

Thomas grunted.

“Have you seen him today?” Sammy pressed. 

“Yeah.”

Sammy’s eyes lingered on Thomas as he worked, and it was downright unnerving. Something wasn’t right about him. 

Most people didn’t ask after the demon. They did their best not to think about him or to acknowledge his existence. Shawn sometimes asked, of course, but it was with great amusement. Shawn didn’t fear Bendy like the others did, because Bendy was in his shop enough that Shawn knew better. But Sammy… 

It left a bad taste in the back of Thomas’ mouth. 

Still he progressed through the rest of his day without thinking about it, until it was 3PM and he was sipping his coffee at his desk, perusing over some blueprints of the next section of the Ink Machine. Then, very much inexplicably and out of the blue, 

_What if it was Sammy?_

He nearly spit his coffee on the blueprints, and instead spent a minute coughing and spluttering and banging his fist on his chest to clear it. The thought was too absurd. 

But only a couple people weren’t frightened of the Ink Demon: Shawn, and Wally. Thomas knew both fairly well, and knew neither would do that. Which left Sammy, who… yeah, ever since he learned of Bendy’s existence, had held a weird fascination with the demon. 

God, what if it was him? Thomas aggressively fought off the sort of _images_ that came with his conclusion. 

He twisted around in his seat.

“Bendy, do you know Sammy?”

The demon gave a small chirrup.

Thomas hummed thoughtfully. That was inconclusive. The Ink Demon sometimes just chirruped at his own name. Or at acknowledgement, which seemed to be the case here: the demon was looking hopeful for attention. 

Thomas turned back to the blueprints, stewing.

The next day, the Ink Demon greeted him with excitement and a plead for a head rub. No sexual arousal. 

Either he’d been shamed into not getting aroused (which Thomas knew from personal experience didn’t exactly work), or, much more likely, he was finding some other way to get off. Thomas knew it was too much to hope for the the demon had just figured it out on his own, especially with the whole attempted-oral-sex thing. So yeah. His earlier conclusion rang only truer. Someone in the studio was ‘helping’ Bendy. And Thomas had a sneaking suspicion that person was Sammy Lawrence. 

Why a grown man would even _offer_ to use his mouth, and on an inhuman abomination nonetheless, Thomas couldn’t fathom. He was terrified of asking, partly under the fear he was wrong, and partly under the fear he was right. 

Someway somehow, Thomas was going to figure it out. And put a stop to it. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol again, this follows Get a Man Who Works With His Mouth. 
> 
> I never intended on connecting these two stories but Certain People keep giving me ideas and I can't help myself. So much for me just keeping things sweet and nice and Thomas/Inky.

Sammy Lawrence had gotten himself in an unusual kind of situation. But it was exactly what he wanted, without ever before realizing he wanted it. 

It started when Thomas (and Sammy detested him more than he detested most people, which was saying something) took days off to recover from some disgusting influenza. Normally the engineer hawked over the demon like an overbearing mother; it irked Sammy to no end that the demon was treated like a child rather than a God. But when Thomas took off work - well, then he wasn’t around to do that, was he? Sammy heard of his absences, and it made him churn with excitement. With daring hope. He wanted desperately to see the demon. 

But he did not seek Bendy out, no. He would never be so bold, so arrogant. Instead, he merely remained in his office, well after hours, in the hopes that the demon might come seek him. And,before the day’s end… the demon did. He came looking. And he chose Sammy. Chose Sammy above all the others, to serve him and please him in whatever manner the demon asked. It was, truly, ecstasy. 

Of course, currently the magnificent demon only wanted one thing from Sammy. And that one thing left Sammy weak, shaking, and vomiting ink.

In time, perhaps he would want other things. For now, the music director was more than happy to provide his mouth as a warm hole for the demon to fuck. Sammy had never demeaned himself like that for another man, but… Bendy was not a man. He was a God. Something terrifying and powerful. Sammy was more than willing to get on his knees for him.

The very next day, Bendy sought him out again. Though Sammy was still nauseous from the rich reek of ink that had spilled down his throat and into his stomach, he readily knelt, and opened his mouth. Then again. Another day. Another. Even after Thomas returned to work, the demon continued his dedicated daily visits, until Sammy’s throat was raw, his stomach perpetually queasy. He grew nauseous at even the slightest whiff of ink. But he was not only nauseous, no. He adored how his degradation led to Bendy’s pleasure. It… aroused him, in time. Getting on his knees, serving him.

Sammy learned that if he was especially lucky, he could time his own release with Bendy’s… the suffocating feel of viscous ink pumping down his throat while he milked out every drop of his own cum. It was indescribable. Pure ecstasy. And the demon, merciful and benevolent, allowed him this wonderful pleasure. 

But it wasn’t long before trouble arose. Sammy swallowed down ink so frequently, so eagerly (choking on it was hardly any matter - anything, anything for the demon), that it… may have affected his health more than was reasonable. He frequently hunched over the toilets and vomited up sticky black gunk. It left his throat constantly throbbing and raw. He barely had any appetite, and began to lose weight - not that he had much to lose in the first place. His rich voice turned raspy - and that, that is when he became concerned. 

At first, it was no matter: he was glad to sacrifice something he greatly valued for Bendy. But then Joey approached him. Sammy had been falling behind on his studio duties. His ruined voice couldn't be used to lead the band, nor to sing out tunes. Others had noticed, and so too had Joey. Simply put, if Sammy couldn't perform his job, then he couldn't keep it.

This was indeed a difficulty. Sammy wanted to give everything to the demon. But if he lost his job, he would not be able to see his God at all. That he couldn’t bear. For hours Sammy toiled over this dilemma, knowing that Bendy would again come to him, and wish to use him - and so badly, Sammy wanted to submit to him, to be used however his Lord pleased. But he couldn't risk his job, and severance from the demon entirely. How could he say no to Bendy? How could he bring him to an equally satisfying release?

It was impossible to focus, fearing the wrath of a God who has been denied what he rightfully deserves. But an idea came to Sammy. Another way his body might be used to please Bendy. It scared him, because he knew nothing about those matters. He had only heard tell of it, certainly never tried it himself. 

Still, he doubted his hands could deliver the same pleasure as Bendy abusing his throat. That left only one option. Sammy shook to consider it, but steeled himself. He would, for Bendy.

At the end of the work day, just as predicted, a black stain spread across the wall, signaling the demon’s entrance. Sammy wanted to collapse to his knees immediately, and open his mouth, no matter how much it would ruin his throat and make his jaw ache. But he resisted the compulsion, merely lowering his head respectfully as the Ink Demon entered the room. 

“My Lord,” he breathed. 

The demon came closer. His thick cock came into Sammy’s field of view, slick with ink. Heady arousal bled off him. Sammy licked his lips. “My Lord, I can’t-“ He stepped back when the demon reached out, though the insinuation of Bendy forcing him both excited and terrified him. “I can’t do that for you. But I have something else to offer you.”

Quickly, before the demon could get too impatient, Sammy turned around and unbuckled his pants, shoving them to his ankles. Exposed to the studio, he felt unnaturally cold, although his shaking had nothing to do with the temperature. He bent over his desk, waiting, panting, and trying not to panic. He had no dignity around his Lord, of course, it wasn’t about having dignity. He was willing to be a cock sleeve for Bendy. He had to keep that in mind. 

He’d never had anyone penetrate him before, least of all an unknowable, immensely powerful demon with a girthy cock. Every bone in his body screamed at him to pull up his pants and get the hell out of there. But Bendy needed pleasing. That was all that mattered.

Sammy tried to steel himself and steady his ragged breathing.

But nothing happened. 

Nothing happened. 

Sammy looked over his shoulder. Bendy only stood there, swaying. 

“My Lord, please-“ 

Bendy tilted his head to the side. 

Perhaps the demon was new to this also.

Sammy straightened, and dared to reach for Bendy’s dick - he only wanted to guide the demon, but as soon as he was closer, Bendy grabbed his head and tried to force him down. Normally, this was just fine with Sammy. The gesture alone sent pleasurable fear up his spine. But this time, Sammy twisted away.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, heart thudding. “I’m sorry, my Lord. Please, I have something else for you, something that you might find pleasing-“ 

Bendy hesitated, tense. 

This time, Sammy was able to grasp his thick cock in his hand, and he gave it a few pumps until the demon relaxed more, making a soft churr. 

“There, yes,” Sammy murmured, in part to soothe himself. Another shaky breath. He could do this. He must do it. For Bendy. 

He turned around again, spreading open his cheeks. 

The Ink Demon made a puzzled noise, sidling closer and jutting his hips impatiently at the loss of contact. 

“Yes, nearly there.” Sammy’s voice trembled. His thighs were beginning to hurt from being hunched over oddly. He reached back and gave another few encouraging tugs, his hand only getting slicker and slicker with black ink. 

The demon shuffled incrementally closer. This time Sammy felt his cold, cold ink nudging against the backs of his thighs and butt. Sammy shivered. The demon whined once Sammy stopped rubbing him. His frustrated thrust rubbed his length over Sammy’s ass. 

Sammy bit down the fear.Bendy felt huge. What if he couldn't fit? No - no, Sammy couldn't back out now. He let the demon rut against his bare ass for a few moments more, afraid to guide things further. But this was clearly not going to be sufficient

Sammy dared to reach back again, between his own legs (ah.. he was hard. He hadn’t entirely realized). He reached further, fingers groping until he brushed against the snake-like appendage of Bendy’s. To be at this appropriate height, Bendy was crouched, more and more of his body pressing wetly to Sammy’s. Ink was dripping over the music director’s back, and Sammy felt pinned. Helpless. 

Bendy’s dick coiled around Sammy’s fingers; the demon huffed needily. He was losing patience, and confused by Sammy’s actions. Sammy needed to get a move on - he didn’t want to frustrate Bendy. He quickly guided the demon back between his cheeks. From this angle it was clumsy; he roughly tried to shove in a finger to demonstrate what Bendy was supposed to do, but his nail clipped the edge of his hole and he winced. Bendy’s dripping appendage lathered his hand and between his cheeks with chilly ink. Sammy shuddered.

“My Lord,” he hissed with his cheek squished up against the desk. “You -“ it felt weird to speak to him in this way. “You go _in_ -“ His shoulder hurt from reaching like this, but Sammy, persevering, nuzzled the tip of his finger in again. Bendy had to understand at some point-

Then the tapered tip of Bendy’s dick was squeezing into his tight hole. Bendy made a sharp noise of delight.

Sammy gasped at the cold wet feeling, his guts instinctively clenching to stop the invasion. He hunched over, both arms on the desk, and had two seconds to wonder if he should have prepared with something before huge hands clamped down on Sammy’s hips, grabbing hard enough to split bone apart. A single thrust had the rest of his length plowing into Sammy’s body.

It was white-hot agony that shot up his spine. Sammy screeched through clenched teeth, eyes immediately welling with tears as his nails scrabbled over the desk. 

“W-wait,” he hissed, against his own will, “wait, I can’t-“

But Bendy made a rumbling, eager moan. He began to thrust in earnest, his hefty length repeatedly slamming itself inside, far far too easily with the copious ink now flooding Sammy’s insides and dripping down his crack. 

Sammy’s chest tightened while his stomach lurched. For a few terrifying moments, he was certain he was going to spill his guts all over the desk, but clenching his teeth and tilting his head up prevented the flow. Meanwhile his thighs trembled spastically, and he struggled to breathe. He felt impaled, violated, held forcefully in such a vulnerable position while the demon mercilessly reamed him, abusing his insides over and over while Sammy had no power to stop him or to flee. 

“Please,” Sammy gasped hoarsely. Just a break, a moment to rest-

But Sammy knew this about the demon - once he got going, he didn’t want to stop until he was done. And during that time, he might get frantic, pushy, rougher than he otherwise was. Not that he intended to harm anyone, but that he needed release, and he’d do anything to get it. This was no different. Sammy felt those large inhuman hands clamp down on him, keeping Sammy held in a favorable position. The Ink Demon had gotten a taste of what felt nice, and he was going to make Sammy sit still and take it until he was done.

Sammy sobbed at the ripping agony of the demon pistoning in and out, but he no longer tried to fight or flee. There was no point. The Ink Demon’s weight was suffocating, his grip far more powerful than Sammy could fight. The best thing to do was go limp and accept it. 

Blessedly, it was not long before the Ink Demon’s thrusts became erratic, then he buried himself deep into Sammy one final time. Sammy shuddered, feeling cold ink spill inside him in small spurts. Then it was strangely quiet, only the demon’s raspy panting and the dripping of ink to interrupt the silence. 

Sammy’s backside burned, all the way up his spine. His thighs ached both from holding the position, and from banging against the desk. His erection had long since flagged, and he panted, eyes wet and round, as he tried to grasp what had just happened. 

The demon yanked out. Ink spattered. Sammy crumpled to the floor, crying out at the searing pain that movement caused. He didn’t want to move again. Everything hurt. 

He became aware of the demon hovering over him, dripping. Sammy weakly tilted his head up. Bendy was grinning, as always, head tilted. 

“Thank you,” Sammy uttered hoarsely. It was something the demon seemed to like to hear, after Sammy had said it the first time. Sure enough, he chirruped. In the next moment, he stepped through the wall and was gone. 

Sammy slumped. He couldn't find the energy to move.

_This is good_ , he fought through his pain to think. _I was useful to him._ That was all that mattered, truly. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only half of the chapter I intended to write but i honestly dunno if I'll ever get around to writing the second half so here's Something at least. So... temporarily or forever on hiatus?

Wally had discovered some… unusual things during his rounds lately. Excess ink - that was normal. Hell, that stuff was _everywhere_ at this point, the resident demon trailing it up and down every floor and every hall until Wally was spending hours overtime trying to keep the place remotely presentable. So the ink was nothing.

No, what was _weird_ was the crap Wally was seeing in the Music Department. It started the first day Thomas was out sick. Wally came in to clean the recording studio and found, amongst large splatters of ink, gross chunks of something that could only be vomit. The smell alone was hideous. But if Wally wasn’t gonna tackle it, nobody would. Wally dedicated an extra hour to cleaning up the mess, and then continued on his way. 

Until he found the same damn thing the next day. 

Wally cleaned it up again, wondering who the hell was vomiting straight on the floor and just _leaving_ it. With the amount of ink mixed in, it had to involve the demon somehow. But Wally had been around the demon plenty enough himself; he knew Bendy didn’t open his mouth, much less eat or vomit. Wally shook his head, made the place look good as new, and then tried hard not to think about anything. As a janitor, he was often exposed to weird secrets or habits about people that it was just better not thinking too hard about. Wasn’t his business! 

The day after, he was relieved to find the recording studio no messier than usual. He was relieved, at least, until he found the toilet which… had definitely been flushed, but that did little to help all the ink and mess splattered outside of the bowl. Thoroughly disturbed, Wally again cleaned. 

Now normally, he liked to keep his nose out of people’s business. Basically, don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to. But frankly, this was adding time to his work hours every night, and was becoming more than just a nuisance. He wanted to get to the bottom of it. 

He considered ringing up Thomas and asking what the hell the demon might be up to in the Music Department, but given that all this started when Thomas took time off, Wally doubted the man would know. So instead Wally resolved to simply catch whatever it was, as it was happening, and put a stop to it. It was unlikely to happen during the work day itself, this Wally knew - otherwise, the band members or Sammy Lawrence would have complained about the mess, surely. Which meant it had to happen between the time the normal work day ended and the time that Wally typically came by to do his rounds. Keeping this in mind, Wally headed straight for the Music Department, mop in hand, as soon as workers began filtering out.

He waved cheerily at all the band members leaving, and let anyone who asked know that he was just changing up his schedule now, trying new things. One by one, everyone left. Everyone _but_ the Music Director himself. Wally tapped on his mop. Tapped his foot. Swayed side to side. Hummed. He was just beginning to wonder if Mr. Sammy Lawrence was involved in whatever was creating the mess when he heard a strange noise coming from inside the recording studio. It was a harsh gagging noise, which was unmistakable as someone on the verge of throwing up. That must be it!

Wally skirted quickly around the corner and opened the door. 

There in the doorframe, he froze. The sight that greeted his eyes was exactly none of the scenarios he had imagined. It was much, much worse. All the air sucked from Wally’s lungs as he stood there, unable to tear his gaze away or move from his spot.

Sammy Lawrence was on his knees in front of the Ink Demon. A certain body part of the demon’s was crammed into the Music Director’sthroat and being very violently rammed in and out. The demon’s large mismatched hands clutched Sammy’s skull and held him forcefully in position. Tears were streaming down Sammy’s face as he clung to the demon’s hips, but he seemed to be making no move to free himself. It was horrific.

Should he _help_ Sammy? Should he run? Did Sammy want this? Was the demon forcing him? It was nearly impossible to believe: despite his frightening appearance, the Ink Demon didn’t have a single bad bone in his body. What was happening to Sammy though - it was appalling. 

The instinct to help won out. Wally dove into the room, arms akimbo, “Bendy, stop it! No!”

Instantly the Ink Demon’s head lifted and his horns wiggled, but his keen was strained, and he didn’t stop thrusting. 

“Bendy,” Wally hissed - dangit, Thomas was better about controlling the demon than he was, “Bendy, stop - stop that now!” Was he supposed to touch the demon - try to rip him off? Wally flailed in confusion: he didn’t want to touch Bendy, not while he was - 

But even as Wally looked on, the demon emitted a deep rumble. His head tilted up, his legs shook, and his hips went still with his member buried deep in Sammy’s throat. A few full-body twitches later, and the demon finally released his victim. Sammy collapsed to his hands and knees and vomited ink on the floor. 

“Sammy,” he rushed closer, “Oh God, Sammy, are ya all right?”

“The fuck-“ Sammy spit out globs of ink, “are you doing-“ a few coughs. His face was red as a tomato, and contorted in what could only be pain. “-In my recording studio!” 

“Do ya need water? A-a heating pad? Tell me what you need, Sammy, and I’ll get it-“

“Why would I-“ he hunched over, spat out more viscous ink, “need a goddamn heating-“ He devolved into coughs. 

“I was supposed to be lookin’ after the demon,” Wally said, clutching his hair. “Geez, Sammy, I’m sorry.”

“Get out.”

“But, I-“ 

“GET OUT!” Sammy roared. 

Wally squealed and back-pedaled.

“I, are- um-?” Wally started. His eyes swerved to the Ink Demon, who was watching the exchange with horns lowered in uncertainty. When Wally looked back at Sammy, the Music Director’s eyes were slivers of rage. “Wally, if you don’t get out of here ** _right now_** -

“Eep!” Wally skittered out of the recording studio and shut the door behind him. He bolted back to his office, where he hunched over his desk and tried to process what he had seen. 

He had known that the demon could have sexual arousal. He’d seen it once - though only once - when the demon wandered around the studio with it all hanging out. It was weird to Wally, sure, because the innocent tottering creature had only ever come across to Wally as being… well, sort of puppy-like. Very naive. Mute but sweet and kind-hearted, very susceptible to a harsh tone or positive reinforcement. Then again, puppies sooner or later grew, and became sexual creatures. Perhaps the demon was no different.

But then - to do something like that with Sammy… It twisted all wrong in Wally’s stomach. Sammy _couldn't_ have wanted that, right?

Did… did he chase Wally out because he was ashamed of the demon taking advantage of him? 

Oh God, none of this made any sense whatsoever, and Wally had no idea what to do. His hand surged to the phone, thinking _Thomas, Thomas would know._ Thomas always knew what to do with Ink Demon - 

Before Wally could even contemplate it, Thomas' number was dialed and the phone was at his ear. 

“Mfh?” Was the raspy grumble from the other side. 

Only then did Wally realize he hadn't prepared what to say.


End file.
